Birthday Surprise
by Rhiannamator
Summary: It's Christian's birthday, and he's spending it alone. At least, he thought he was. Jay/Heath, M/M, Jay's POV


**I started this on Christian's birthday, 30 November 2011. At least i have it up before Heath's this year. :P**

This eggnog was gross. I wasn't a huge fan of eggnog in the first place, but this stuff was the worst I had ever tasted. Yet here I was, drinking the vile stuff. I shouldn't even be here, milling around backstage, looking at all the prop Christmas decorations and pretending to be interested in anything Tyler Reks was saying to me. My segment for the live Christmas SmackDown had been canceled last minute and I could leave any time I wanted. I didn't really mind that I had been shuffled off the show; I was kind of tired of being the whiny gimp. What sucked was that I'd come all the way to Charlotte for a two minute segment that wasn't even going to happen. Thanks, Creative.

I'd checked the flight information an hour ago. The last flight home left in half an hour. I could have made it if I'd hustled, but I hadn't. I'd hobbled around back here, avoiding the cameras and sitting around drinking shitty eggnog. And for what? I could be on my way home to sit in front of the fire in a cushy chair with my damnable sprained ankle propped up... completely alone. Not that I was really socializing now, I thought as Tyler wandered away. The door had been taking up all my attention. I rubbed a hand over my face, feeling stupid. I should just check into my hotel room and turn in so I could make the morning flight home.

Then he walked in. I swear the entire room brightened when he bounced over to the buffet table, a bright grin on his pretty lips and a sparkle in his rich brown eyes. His red hair was still damp from his shower, and it dripped onto his tight black tee as he picked over the catering spread. I hadn't seen him in the flesh, so to speak, in a month, and it almost hurt to look at him.

I couldn't deny anymore that I had it bad for Heath. I felt absolutely ridiculous for it. The reason I hadn't seen him in a month was because he'd been suspended for fake pot. Not that I had anything against pot, I'd been known to partake myself on a few occasions, but Heath had gone for the designer shit and gotten caught. Kid stuff. It showed how much of a kid he still was. Young, glowing with life and energy and enthusiasm. And here I was, a full decade older than him, a grizzled old fart. They even called me a veteran on TV, and I was pathetically lusting after a rookie.

I tried to tell myself on many occasions that it was just that his youth and vigor was infectious, that his presence made me feel younger and that's why I liked being around him. That was part of it, sure, but there were plenty of younger guys around that didn't make my stomach flutter every time they aimed a smile my way. Plenty of others that didn't invade my dreams, leaving me to wake up with a hard-on that wouldn't quit until I took it in my hand and came grunting his name.

I first heard about him from Adam, when he went to FCW to cut a promo with the red-haired Edge wannabe. Adam, humbled and flattered like the sweetheart he is, was only too happy to go put the guy over. I didn't think much of it until NXT last year, when that mutual connection to Adam gave them the idea to pair me and Heath up. We got along famously, our goofy senses of humor playing off each other as I tried to give him advice, and he made me feel important, like I hadn't felt in years. I found myself looking forward to our workouts, our idle chats backstage, trips to the bar after taping. I caught myself staring at his body as he moved, his throat as he tossed his hair out of his face. I thought about him constantly, realized I even sang songs in the shower that reminded me of him.

When Heath went to RAW and I went to SmackDown, I still watched him from afar, just admiring him. I was pretty sure he'd started a relationship with Justin Gabriel, a fact that I confirmed when they made their move to SmackDown, and Heath remained a distant fantasy. By the time they broke up, I was out with a torn pec, and when I came back I was so wrapped up in my angle with Adam, the pain of his retirement, and my brief title runs that I hadn't gotten the chance to obsess over Heath. I was obsessing over him now, though, and this past month without him around had been, well, desolate. I knew it could never be, though. He was too young, too beautiful and vital for me. He was on his way up, and I was on my way out. He deserved someone more like Justin than someone like me, someone he could love and grow with. I was just torturing myself, hanging out here for just a glimpse of him.

I put aside the eggnog, preparing to go back to my room and distract myself with a cold beer and hotel porn before bed. Then I'd go home and try to forget I was now seriously pushing 40 years old. I'd never felt my age like this before. I always considered myself a big kid, but with my 30s coming to an end, my best friend gone – fuck, almost all the people I'd come up in the business with gone – and my recent run of injuries, I felt worn down. Aged. I sighed and reached for my crutches, knocking them over when the smooth, slow drawl that sent shivers down my spine addressed me.

"Hey, Christian. Mind if I sit with you? Aw shit, let me get those," Heath said, setting his plate on the table in front of me and picking up my crutches from the floor. He put them back against my chair where they'd been leaning before I'd gone into klutz mode. I couldn't help but smile.

"Thanks, Rookie. Yeah, have a seat. And I've told you a million times, call me Jay."

"Sorry, Jay," he said with a grin and a starstruck look in his eye. Why did he have to do that? It just reminded me that I'd been in this business way longer than he had. It made me feel like a creeper, like if I made a move on him, I'd be taking advantage of his fanboy-ism and he'd feel like he'd have to say yes, even if he didn't want my advances.

"You looked pretty good in the ring tonight," I told him, and he beamed. We talked shop for a little while, and he shared a few stories about what he did on his little "vacation." All too soon he was done eating, and Alex Riley stopped by to invite him out for a night on the town with the boys.

"Yeah, sure thing," Heath replied, then turned to me. "What about you, Jay? Got any plans tonight?"

"I'm gonna hole up in my room. I'd just slow you guys down," I replied, gesturing to my crutches.

"Naw, that's bullshit. C'mon, I don't wanna leave you by your lonesome."

"Thanks anyway, Heath," I said, feeling even more like an old fogey. "You go, have fun. I've got an early flight tomorrow." Plus, I didn't need to sit around drooling over a boy I could never have. At least not in public and in his presence.

"Where are you staying?"

It was an innocent question, one I'd heard and answered a million times in my life on the road, so I told him the name of the hotel and we went our separate ways.

o~o~o

By the time I picked up a six-pack and got to my room, it was well after 11pm. I took off my clunky protective boot and changed into sleeping pants, then started re-wrapping my ankle to kill time. I'd just gotten my foot propped on a pile of pillows when my phone rang. The time: 12:01am, on the dot. I grinned and answered the phone on speaker, knowing I wouldn't want what was about to happen up against my ear.

"Hi, Adam."

"Haaaaaaappy birthday to you..." Adam and Jeff's voices sang from the phone, loud and horribly off-key. They warbled in screeching falsettos, totally out of sync, as they did every year. And as every year, I laughed until my stomach hurt.

"What are your plans, Jay?" Adam asked when they were done trying to make my phone crack in protest.

"I don't really have any."

"Why don't you just drive down here and stay with us?" Jeff invited. "Charlotte's only a couple hours' drive away."

"I think I'm just gonna fly home in the morning, spend a quiet day with the cats, maybe catch up on some movies."

I heard Adam sigh. "Jay... Okay. But we're taking you out this weekend."

Adam could always tell when I was in a funk, and he refused to let it last for long. I couldn't say I was looking forward to a weekend of being the third wheel, though. "Sure, buddy. That sounds great. I'm gonna catch some sleep now."

"Okay. Night, Jay," Adam said.

"Sweet dreams," Jeff chimed in.

"Yeah," Adam snickered, "visions of gingers dancing in your head."

"Naked," Jeff added.

"Goodnight, you guys," I said, rolling my eyes. Of course they knew about my infatuation, and never failed to give me shit about it.

"We love you!" they chorused.

"Yeah, yeah, I love you assholes, too." I hung up on the giggling chants of "Firecrotch!" and picked up the remote. They'd moved in together just after the retirement tour, and since then they'd been just giddy. Probably forgotten all about me by now and were fucking on whatever flat surface they could find. At least someone was getting laid on my birthday. I sighed and looked at my hand. "Just you and me tonight, baby."

I turned on the TV and was perusing the adult titles – these places so rarely had good gay porn – when a knock came on the door. Funny, I hadn't ordered room service, and housekeeping wouldn't show up at midnight. "Who is it?"

"It's Heath!" After a minute of silence, the voice came again. "Um.. is this a bad time?"

The question kick-started my brain's lower functions and my heart started again, and I remembered to breathe. "Uh... no... be right there!" I hopped off the bed and swore as pain shot through my bad ankle.

"Are you okay?" Heath shouted through the door. Bless him, he sounded so worried.

"Yeah," I grunted through gritted teeth, "fine, fine. Just... hold on." I limped to the door, not bothering with the crutches. It was down to a dull throb anyway. I opened the door to see a gorgeous redhead standing there in leather and jeans, holding his own six-pack of micro-brew. Tied to the handle was a Mylar balloon in the shape of a birthday cake.

The pained look on my face must have frozen in my shock at the gesture, because Heath took one look at me and went into action. Suddenly the beer was on the nightstand and Heath was under my arm, guiding me back to the bed.

"Heath, really, I'm fine," I protested as I hopped against him. "I'm supposed to put some weight on it. I just overdid it."

"It's the overdoing I'm worried about," he said. I leaned back against the headboard, and he put my foot back on the pillows, unwrapping it.

"What are you doing here?" I blurted.

"I couldn't stand the thought of you spending your birthday all alone," he answered.

"What made you think I was alone?" I asked with my best smug grin, and Heath smirked.

"With the mope you were pulling tonight, you didn't seem in the mood to pick up tail."

I raised my brows at him, trying not to shiver from the gentle fingers caressing my leg. "Was I that obvious?"

"Yup," he confirmed. "I think we should ice it. Be right back." Before I could protest, he'd grabbed the ice bucket and key card from the dresser and gone.

This could not be happening. Dear fucking Penthouse, I never thought it could happen to me, a ginger angel is in my room to nurse me back to health... Okay, I couldn't get ahead of myself. Heath wasn't here for sex, and I couldn't bring myself to seduce him. Not for a pity fuck. He was pitying me enough as it was, and why was he even bothering?

Then Heath was back, stripping off his leather jacket with a sassy shake of his light red locks & pouring ice into a towel. He tied it all up and placed it on my admittedly puffy ankle. A few years ago I'd be almost healed at this point.

"You don't have to stay with me," I told him as he unlaced his boots, taking them off along with his socks. "You should be out having fun."

"Hanging with you is fun," he replied, handing me a beer from the nightstand. He jumped over me to land on my other side on the bed, then leaned over my face to grab his own beer. _God, he fucking smells good_, I thought as I stared at his chest.

"Your feet stink," I said when he settled back.

"So does your ass," he replied. I paused in the act of opening my beer to look indignant.

"My ass smells like roses, I'll have you know."

Heath snorted. "Dude, we _have_ shared a locker room."

I gave a facial shrug and raised my beer. "Fair enough." He clinked the neck of his bottle with mine and I laughed as we drank. He had a gift for making me laugh.

He gestured to the forgotten television with his beer. "I don't think I can watch Leather Boys 3. I haven't seen the first two."

Shit. Why didn't I turn off the porn guide while he was getting ice? Or before I answered the door, for fuck's sake? I wanted to sink through the bed and die. So, I played it off.

"Eh, you're too young to see that kind of movie, anyway. Wait until after puberty." He giggled when I smirked at him, but it sounded forced. "So, did you want to watch something? I bet there's B horror on late night, or... sorry, I'm not really exciting tonight."

Heath wet his lips, pink tongue sliding out to tease me. Oh, sweet naïve little cherry, if you only knew what that tongue was doing to me in my head.

"I don't feel like a movie. I think you're plenty exciting on your own," he said.

I wasn't sure how to take that, and I was certain I imagined the flick of his eyes over my bare chest. Wishful thinking, reading too much into things. "What, you wanna pick my brain about the business? Fine, but I warn you, there's not much up here left to pick," I told him, tapping my temple with a wink.

He rolled to his side, elbow on the pillow and shoulder leaning against the headboard beside me. Closer now, I felt his leg rub up against mine, and I breathed in his luscious scent again, having a hard time concentrating on his words.

"You're never gonna see me as anything but a little kid, are you?" he asked, picking at the label of his beer. And without even realizing, he calls me a pedo. Ugh. I scooched down a bit to look into his face.

"C'mon, Heath, I didn't mean it like that. Sure, you're a little green, but you've proven you belong out there. You're gonna do great. Especially with me in your corner." I gave him my best smug grin, and he cocked his head.

"You really think so?"

"I know so."

Heath smiled as he inspected the bottle, his cheeks flushing. "Y'know, every time I get in that ring, I'm looking to make you proud. Impress you," he said, and raked his hair back.

I tried not to sigh. This hero worship bullshit was not what I wanted from him. But what I wanted from him would never happen, so I'd take it. "You do impress me." That didn't sound pervy at all. Christ. My awkward smile was met with narrowed eyes and puckered lips.

"I do wanna pick your brain about something," he said.

I felt a tug at my pant leg and glanced down to see his bare toes playing with the cuff. Fidgety thing. "Um, what do you want to know?"

He reached out and ran his fingers through my chest hair, and I thought my heart would implode. "What do I gotta do for you to make a move on me?" he purred.

I took him in my arms, kissed him so thoroughly I thought I'd swallow his face, and fucked him through the mattress until we both went blind.

In reality, I said, "I... what?"

Heath smirked. "You really think I would ditch my friends and a night of partying to hang with a crip I have no feelings for?"

Feelings? There were feelings? I tried to make my brain and my mouth cooperate again. "I... what?"

"Are you always this slow?" he asked with a giggle. "I came into your room with alcohol, crawled into your bed and asked you to come on to me. And unless I'm way off..." His face fell. "Oh, fuck. I'm way off, aren't I? You don't want me at all... shit..." He sat back against the headboard with a hand over his face. "I'm sorry... I'll go." He scooted to the foot of the bed and reached for his boots, skipping the socks. I should let him leave, but I just couldn't.

"Heath, wait..."

He sniffled and shook his head, then went to pick up his jacket.

"Don't go, I want to talk-"

A watery laugh tore at his throat, at the same time tearing at my chest. "I think I've had enough humiliation for one night," he said as he reached for the door. I did the first thing that popped into my head.

"Heath. Stop right there. Don't make me come after you and re-sprain my ankle, because I will," I said in my best Daddy Christian voice, taking the ice off my ankle. During NXT, as my relationship with Matt was crumbling to dust, our rookies called us Daddy Christian and Papa Hardy. Heath still called me Daddy in my fantasies. And apparently the Daddy voice still worked, because it stopped him in his tracks. He turned and looked at me with one hand on his cocked hip, exasperation on his face to cover another sniffle. I scooted back up against the headboard and gestured for him to sit on the edge of the bed, which he did, elbows on knees.

"I know the mentor thing was storyline," I started, "but I still feel like your teacher, and I didn't want to take advantage of that."

He seemed to contemplate this, and I held my breath as he tossed his hair over one shoulder to look at me. "I didn't misread you?" I shook my head in response. "You do want me?"

"Yes, but..." I trailed off, not wanting to say it, wanting just to take him and be damned the consequences. But he deserved better. I deserved better.

"What but? Why is there a but? Tough to take advantage of the willing, you know," he said.

"I don't..." I scrubbed my face with my hands and cleared my throat. "I don't want to be your starstruck fantasy. If you're with me, I don't want it to be for Christian. And what would someone like you want with a decrepit old man like Jay Reso?" I finished my beer and set the empty bottle on the nightstand, looking away.

"Dude, I told you, we've shared a locker room. What illusions I had about you were shattered a while ago. I'm not starstruck."

I looked up to see him grinning at me. "Then what is that goofy look you get on your face whenever I compliment your ringwork or tell you to call me Jay?"

He reached over and laced his fingers with mine. "Just... struck." He kicked off his untied boots as he crawled onto the bed and straddled my lap, raising my fingers to his mouth to kiss each fingertip between words. "Jay Reso is not decrepit. He is strong, and handsome, and funny, and thoughtful, and incredibly sexy." He slipped two fingers into the moist heat of his mouth, and my dick twitched against the soft cotton of my pants.

"Oh, you little vixen," I breathed as he looked at me through his lashes, lips wrapped around the width of my fingers. Fuck, and there was that tongue, caressing around and between them as he sucked. I was done for. His teeth scraped over my knuckles as he withdrew, and I had to hold back a whimper. His fingers smoothed over my furrowed brow and across the lines around my eyes, then down to caress the whiskers on my cheeks, all the while gazing at me with affection in his sweet mahogany eyes.

"Who's got the goofy look on his face now?" the sassy little vixen asked. I could feel my lips twist into a wry grin as I grabbed the nape of his neck and pulled him close. Whatever this was, a night of fucking or the start of something else, I was going to enjoy this. Our lips met and heat rushed over my skin, my fingers tangling in his fiery hair. I opened my mouth under his, sucking and licking at his lips as his denim-clad hips pushed against mine. I needed to touch him, feel every inch of his pale pink skin against mine.

"These clothes need to come off. Now," I said, pushing his shirt up and tugging the front of his jeans to pop the button.

"Yes, Daddy," he said with a giggle, pulling his shirt off with a shake of his head, and I froze with my fingers on his zipper. "Oh. Too weird?"

"Fuck no," I growled, pulling the zipper down and pushing at the sides. Commando. Slut.

"Ooh, you like being called Daddy, do you?" he asked, grinding against my hand as it rubbed over the thatch of short ginger hair just above the base of his cock. He was a firecrotch all right, and it was hard not to stare at it in the locker room. Now I got to play with it as much as I wanted. And fuck me, I wanted. I grabbed his hand and pressed it against the tent in my pants.

"What do you think?" I leaned down and sucked a lush pink nipple into my mouth, feeling the nub stiffen against my tongue as he explored the length of my cock through the fabric.

"Uhm, I think Daddy's gonna split me in two with this monster."

Did I say naïve earlier? Yeah, never mind.

The soft cotton of my pants whispered over my hard-on, brushing against my balls as he felt me. He tugged the waistband and reached inside, squeezing me with an expert hand until I thought my eyes would bug from the pressure. His grip loosened just before the tightness would become painful, and I grunted into his chest as those long fingers slid up and down my shaft. It had been a while since I was touched like this, not since Matt..

The thought of the older Hardy Boy flew from my head as Heath dismounted, standing by the bed and turning away as he slid his jeans down. As he bent I let my eyes feast on that round firmness. His cheeks spread as he stepped out of his pants, offering me just a peek of his entrance. I couldn't help myself. I reached over and slapped that ass, and I swear my dick almost jerked a hole through my pants when I saw his pale flesh bounce, heard that throaty voice yelp. I wet my lips as his skin took on a flush in the shape of my hand. I wanted to make that ass glow red all over, but I thought I better not press my luck. I expected Heath to glare at me, but my dick was in for another pleasant surprise when he swayed his hips and purred.

"Ooh, have I been naughty? Think Daddy should punish his bad boy?"

Oh, shit.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, ignoring the ankle that throbbed in time with my cock from the sudden change in position. He straightened and started to turn, but I grabbed his arm and jerked him over my lap. I spread my hand over his squirming bottom, rubbing slow circles into his skin. "This what you want?"

"Uhm... yes, Daddy.."

I had to be sure. I didn't want him indulging my obvious desires if he wasn't into it, if he was humoring me and playing coy. I brushed his hair back and turned his face so I could see his eyes. "You sure?"

There was no mistaking the naked hunger in Heath's expression when he nodded, hips giving a little buck into my palm for good measure. Of its own will my hand smacked back, not much more than a pat, and he licked his lips. "Please.."

"Say 'mercy' if it's too much." As my colleagues often reminded me, I got some powerful mitts, and I sometimes hit harder than I mean to. Heath just nodded against my fingers, still looking up at me.

"Mercy," he repeated, showing he was listening. Then he growled. "Punish me."

Well, he asked for it. I held his darkened brown eyes with mine as my hand cracked down on the curve of that sweet bottom. I felt my nose wrinkle in a little snarl as I struck, felt the stinging heat on my palm. Heath's eyes rolled away from me and his lips parted in a silent scream. His face scrunched as he wiggled in my lap, and I heard his breath leave him in a shuddering whimper.

"Ohh-ah! Fu-uck... fuck Daddy, harder..."

I'd heard Heath make all sorts of sounds in the ring and the gym, grunts and groans and cries that haunted my dreams, played over and over again in my fantasies, but I never imagined such a slutty sound coming from his throat. I needed to hear more. I whacked him again, loving how he'd tighten up then rock his hips, grinding his hard-on into my leg while waiting for the next blow. I gave it, and another, listening to those precious yelps and whines, letting them fill my ears & send tingles of arousal over my skin. As I spanked his butt raw, my own mouth started running. It had gotten me into trouble before during sex or foreplay, or whatever the fuck we were doing, but sometimes I just couldn't stop it.

"Listen to you, moaning like a whore. I feel you. Such a dirty thing, getting so hard from this..." I reached under his hips, finding his erection and tugging on it for emphasis before resuming my attentions on his behind. He squealed as I smacked him, kicking his feet against the carpet.

"Please... please, Daddy..."

"Please what, Cherry?" I asked, trailing fingertips up and down his crack, barely brushing his pucker, and he whimpered again. "Fuck, those noises... From now on those are mine, understand? Those slutty little whimpers are for my ears only. Now, whose whore are you?" My fingers massaged his entrance, pushing just past the rim, teasing.

"Yours..." He yelped when I removed my finger to spank him again, making sure every inch of that skin turned bright pink.

"Didn't hear you, Cherry. Whose whore are you?"

He gasped and cursed, tossing his hair. "Yours, Daddy! I'm Daddy's little whore!"

The world spun for a second as all the blood rushed from my head to my groin. "Good boy," I grunted, and rewarded him by leaning over to spread those abused cheeks apart and spit on his pucker. I rubbed my saliva into him before pushing my finger inside. My breath hitched when I felt how tight and warm he was around my finger. I didn't know how I was going to stuff my dick into that tight little space, but by god, I'd make it fit.

I wiggled my finger inside him, making him squeal before pulling out and pushing him off my lap. "Stand up."

Heath stumbled to his feet, wobbling and unsteady. I'd made him weak in the knees. The thought made me want to giggle, but I settled on a smug smirk as I pulled him closer. "I want to taste you."

"Fuck," he moaned. "Taste me. Touch me, play with me however you want, Daddy. Just do something..."

His pleas delighted me, amused me, and I wanted more. My hands stroked down his sides, finally exploring that sweet, curvy body I'd wanted for so long. I let my tongue linger in that little hollow below the center of his chest, let my fingers trace the deep cuts of his hips. My mouth caressed the gentle swell of muscle below his navel while my eyes took in the creaminess of his skin with its smattering of freckles. I bet people offered to play connect the dots on his body all the time. With their tongues. Well, I didn't plan on asking. I planned on getting to know each and every freckle on his skin. Hell, maybe I'd name 'em.

I took his hips and moved my head lower, noting the hint of cologne on his inner thigh. Had he spritzed that on with me in mind? I turned my attention to his crotch, nuzzling his stiff cock and feeling it bounce against my nose as my lips parted to mouth his balls. I sucked them in one at a time, hearing him grunt above me. He'd shaved them smooth, and my tongue slipped wetly over his skin. I wanted to devour every inch of this man.

Heath was rocking his hips, feet shifted apart and fingers combing through my hair, sending tingles along my scalp and down the back of my neck. I licked a wet stripe up the underside of his shaft, flicking the head and pulling back to watch his erection bob and point at me. Dark pink and I could almost see the damn thing throbbing, straining to be between my lips. I obliged, taking the swollen head in my mouth and sucking gently, the flat of my tongue rubbing against the slit to taste him.

"Ooh, fuck," he breathed. "Yes, Daddy... please, more..."

I opened my mouth and took him back, relaxing my throat to take him deeper and bobbing my head, sliding my lips up and down the swollen shaft. His taste filled my senses as I wrapped my hand around his base, squeezing and stroking as I sucked, kissing my fist and pulling away. I closed my eyes and his cock became my world. The feel of his pulsing veins against my tongue, his salty-sweet scent mixed with the cologne, the way my saliva-coated fingers slipped around his rigid width. My other hand reached up to tap at his lips, feeling them soft and pliant under my fingertips before he took them in, and our eyes met as he moaned around my fingers.

I don't know if Heath read my mind through my eyes or my actions, or if our desires just coincided, but as soon as I withdrew my fingers he raised a knee to plant his foot on the bed beside me. He steadied his stance with legs spread, giving better access to my fingers as they slipped between his cheeks. I pulled off his cock and stroked the wet shaft with my fist then paused, rubbing my thumb over the round head while my other fingertips tapped his rim. I looked up, wanting to watch his face as I pressed my fingers inside, watch his chest hitch and his eyes roll back as he felt the burning stretch inside him. I stopped at the second knuckle to let him adjust, but he wiggled his hips back, swallowing my fingers whole into that vice-like heat.

"Yes," he gasped. "Finger-fuck me, Daddy. Open me up, get me ready to take that big cock."

I jerked my fingers apart, wrenching my hand and listening to him cry out. His cock twitched.

"Dirty-mouthed slut..." I groaned, and allowed my face to twist into a leer as I gazed up at him. "Don't you dare stop." I swiftly took him back down my throat, rewarding his moans and cries with my tongue. His hands had death-grips on my shoulders as he rocked deeper into my mouth, further onto my plunging fingers. I probed his hot, satin walls, digging into his depths, searching. My fingers crooked and I found it, that raised bundle that would bring him over. I brushed across it and felt his dick jerk in my mouth.

"Ohh, fuck Daddy... uhm, Jay, right there, again..."

My free hand splayed across his lower belly to keep him from choking me and I bobbed my head, my fingers inside him mirroring the frantic pace. His solid shaft slid back and forth over my tongue, his cockhead hitting the back of my throat and I had to sip quick breaths through my nose to keep from gagging. I swallowed and moaned around him, and with every pass I tickled, stroked and rubbed his button. He hunched over me, holding on as I fucked him with mouth and fingers.

"Jay... wait... gonna make me... oh fuck fuck fuck..."

Good. I wanted to taste him, drink him, consume him. His inner muscles tightened, trapping my too-dry fingers and I couldn't wait to feel him clamped around my dick. I wiggled my fingertips over his sweet spot, hoping to send fluttering waves of pleasure through him. His nails dug into my shoulders as he cried out, and I felt his hot width swell and pulse between my lips. I pulled back enough to let his taste coat the inside of my mouth before I swallowed down every thick spurt as fast as he could give them to me. As he finished, I stroked him and opened my mouth, catching the last musky drops on my tongue, and I looked up. Strands of flame swayed about his face and stuck to his flushed lips as he panted. I'd have to watch his face next time. Oh, there would be a next time. I planned on bringing this man to ecstasy as many times as physically possible tonight.

He grunted when I dragged my fingers out of that contracting hole. His hands were in my hair, petting and tugging as he grinned down at me. "Dirty Daddy," he purred, and my ignored cock throbbed. Then he was shoving at my arm, trying to get me to lie back on the pillows. Amused, I let him push me down.

"I am so not done with you yet," he drawled, crawling over me. I couldn't stop the laugh that came to my smiling lips. It bubbled through me and I could feel the joy of it warming my chest and infusing my eyes as I gazed into his. Heath was really here, and he was mine. At least for tonight.

"Oh, no?" I asked, still smiling widely, and rolled us over, ignoring how my ankle complained. "And what does my sweet Cherry have planned for poor me?" I dropped a peck on his soft lips, feeling him raise up and capture my own, his hand on the back of my neck. I slid my tongue into his willing mouth and tasted him, beer and sex and youth. He swallowed my groans as I fed at his lips, and he took as much as he gave. I still didn't know what it was he wanted from me that he devoured me so hungrily, but he could have it. All of it. All of me. Of course, that could have been my dick talking, but I didn't think so.

While I was lost in his kisses he rolled us back over, his chest full and heaving against mine, our faces surrounded by a curtain of cologne-scented fire. He pulled back to growl an answer to the question I'd completely forgotten I'd asked. "I plan on having my wicked way with you, Big Daddy." He snapped his teeth at me playfully and a giggle rose unbidden to my throat. He was just too adorable.

"Ooh, so vicious," I cooed, wrinkling my nose at him. "Well, don't let me stop you." I tucked my hands behind my head, giving him an amused smirk. He narrowed his eyes and pouted his lips at me, and I repressed another giggle. Oh, he was precious when he had his mean-face on. He growled again and attacked my chest with nibbling kisses, brown eyes glancing up and sparkling with laughter. Again I felt that desire to give him the world.

He moved lower, wriggling his naked body against me, and I looked down the broad expanse of his freckled back to those round cheeks, still flushed from my spanking and swaying as he tugged at my waistband. I arched my hips, allowing him to slide my pants down. He helped me kick them off, careful of my bad ankle, before lying on his belly between my spread knees. His arms folded over my thighs and I saw his feet kick up in the air above his ass as he gazed down at my cock, a little smile playing on his lips.

"Well, hello there, gorgeous," he murmured. "Think we're gonna be good friends, you and I." My eyebrow raised.

"Are you talking to my dick?"

"Mhm," he hummed, planting kisses up the underside of my shaft, and I squirmed.

"Fuck, you can read it the phone book if you keep doing that."

He giggled and his moist tongue laved my skin, making me shiver before he took the head in his mouth and dragged his lips off with a loud pop. He hummed again and grinned, lapping at my dick and tracing patterns with his tongue. He was playing with me, tasting me. I didn't mind, I've never been shy with my junk, but his playful attentions were making me ache. He gripped the base with strong, sure fingers and brought the tip to his mouth, nibbling me with lips and teeth and oh fuck... I heard a low rumble in my throat, and I was about to snap at him to get on with it when he wet his lips and took me in. I groaned as I felt my cock swell to full strength inside that warm, velvet mouth.

"Shit..." I breathed. "That's it, baby. Suck it nice. Show Daddy how much you love that cock. Making me so hard, Cherry..." I swept his hair up into one fist so I could see those sweet lips mold around my shaft, watch his cheeks hollow as he sucked me, meet his eyes when they rolled up to gauge my reaction. His lips parted and he pulled back to drag them down the side of my dick, his tongue wiggling, flicking and swirling before he closed his eyes and moaned. His hot breath panted across my wet shaft as his fist stroked me, and the sight of him tapping my cockhead against his glistening lips made my stomach clench and my balls tighten. Then he took a deep breath.

How the fuck did I ever think he was innocent? He was a vixen, a succubus, a dirty fucking tramp, and my cock was so far down his throat I could feel the whiskers on his chin scrape my nutsack. Then he was gagging, choking, his throat hot and wet and convulsing around me, squeezing me and making the pleasure build and build and I was so fucking close...

"Heath! Fuck..." I yanked him up by his hair and he coughed, digging his fingers in my hips and ignoring the choke-tears trickling down from his eyes. I dragged him up and took his swollen red lips, tasting my own precum on his tongue as he straddled my hips.

Yes, oh yes I needed inside him, needed to feel him wrapped around my dick, needed to take him, possess him, stain his insides with my cum and make him mine. His hips rocked against me, grinding our dicks together, and I could feel his smooth balls rubbing up and down my spit-slick shaft. I took his hips to jerk him into position and he raised up with a flip of his hair, then gasped in a voice harsh with abuse and passion, "Lube."

Fuck fuck FUCK! I groaned and let my head fall back on the pillow. Okay, okay, he needed lube. I'd felt how tight he was, I would tear him up. Damn, I wanted to tear this bitch up. "Baby oil. In the bag." I pointed to my leather duffel by the bathroom door, and Heath made a face.

"Baby oil? Dude."

"I didn't pack lube. You're seducing me, why don't you have some?"

"I left it in my bag in my room," he snapped. "Was sorta excited to get over here."

I blinked at him, then shouted, "Well... then... what are you waiting for?"

His face twitched, and I could tell he was holding back a laugh. "I don't know!" he shouted back. I held back a laugh of my own as he jumped off me and tore through the duffel. He was already pouring oil onto his fingers when he got back to the bed and mounted me again. "You ready?" he asked, reaching back to rub oil between his cheeks, and I watched his cock bob as he ground back against his fingers.

"I've been ready to fuck you for months," I answered, rubbing my hands up and down his sides. He poured more oil and slicked my cock, and I could feel the liquid trickle into the hair around the base and leave crawling trails over my balls.

"Not ready enough to bring lube, though," he smirked, positioning himself over me. I wanted to kiss him silly and fuck him raw at the same time. Instead I smacked his rump, making him purr and wiggle on my cock.

"I'm gonna fuck that little smirk off your face, vixen." I reached down and helped guide myself to his waiting pucker and inside, feeling the rim stretch around me. "That's right," I groaned. "Yeah, open up for Daddy..."

Heath sank onto me with a moan, impaling himself on my cock. "Aahh-ah... fuck, Jay, so full... uhm, yes..." He rolled his hips and clenched his inner walls around me. In a haze of lust I grabbed his cheeks, spreading them as he raised up and sat back down. I met him with a violent thrust, jamming myself into him so deep I hoped he'd still taste me in the morning. I relished his howl of pained pleasure, his head tossed back to expose his long neck. I gave him no time to adjust before pounding into him, snapping my hips up and making the most delicious sounds leave those lips.

"Oh yeah... ride it, baby," I heard myself murmur. "So beautiful. Like it when I stretch you, fuck you?"

"Yes, Daddy... harder..." he cried. "Love how you fuck me... oh fuck, so deep, fuck me so good..." He was panting, sliding up and down on my cock and meeting my thrusts. I was in awe of his beauty, feeling his fingers kneading in my chest hair, watching his legs spread further as he rocked back on my dick, his erection bouncing between his thighs and his hair swinging around his shoulders. I reached up and splayed my large hands over his pecs, feeling his heart racing with mine before rolling his nipples between my fingers. He groaned and shuddered above me, his hot channel quaking around my choking, aching length.

"Oh fuck, Heath... Heath..." I breathed, loving how easily his name slipped from my tongue.

"So close, Daddy... almost there," he moaned, mirroring my thoughts. His fingers moved to coil around his own cock, sliding his fist over his stiff flesh as his breath hitched and his face scrunched. Oh hell no.

I snarled and slapped his hand away, replacing it with mine and tugging. "Mine," I growled.

"Yes Jay!" he whimpered. "Yours! Touch me Daddy... make me cum, please..."

I squeezed near the head, rubbing my thumb over his slit and smearing precum before continuing to stroke him. "Cum for me, Cherry. Cum all over me..."

He gripped my arms and his movements stilled as his muscles tensed, the lines of his abs and arms standing out as they flexed, his lips parted and eyes shut tight and fuck, he was gorgeous... I shifted my hips and slammed up into him, my pace frantic as my balls tightened and my own muscles coiled. He cried out, lashes fluttering as he came, his release spattering my chest and belly, his nails biting my skin and his ass clamped tight. I rode the wave with him, sucking in breath through my teeth and calling out his name as I plunged in deep, erupting so hard inside him it left me dizzy.

"Ohh, fuck..." Heath moaned, and collapsed into my arms, nuzzling into my sweaty neck and chuckling. "You're amazing. How's your ankle?"

"What ankle?" I asked, and giggled along with him. It wasn't wrapped and I'd probably pay for it tomorrow, but that was tomorrow. For now I had a ginger fantasy snuggling up to me. I pecked his cheek, nose and lips, stroking my fingers through his soft hair, and he wet his lips.

"So, I suppose I should go?"

My heart stuttered and sank. "Do you want to go?"

"No." His brown eyes were hooded as he gazed into mine, and I could breathe again.

"How long can you stay?"

A smile twitched at his lips. "I don't have to be anywhere until Saturday."

"Then I think I'm keeping you all week," I said, and pressed my own smiling lips to his before we both drifted off to sleep.

It seemed only five minutes later when my phone rang. I jerked awake, squinting against the early sunlight filtering through the curtains. Groaning, my ankle throbbing, I fumbled for the offending technology, swearing to chuck it under a bus at the first opportunity. I answered it on speaker so I could bury my face into the pillow.

"What is it, Adam?" I mumbled.

"Good morning to you too, birthday boy," my best friend chirped back. "I figured you'd be getting ready to go to the airport. Are you still in Charlotte?"

"Yeah," I said, blinking. That's right, I had a flight to catch. Adam chattered on before my exhausted brain could catch up.

"I was thinking, and I just can't let you spend your birthday alone while we're only a couple hours away. I want you to miss your flight and drive down here. Or shit, we'll come get you. I'm determined, Jay-Jay." Determined Adam was never good for me.

"Besides, you need your birthday spanking," Jeff chimed in, cackling, and I groaned again.

"Guys," I started, then felt a shift on the bed beside me. My head spun so fast my neck cracked as the night before crashed into my memory. A blur of sunset-hued hair fanned out on the pillow, and soft brown eyes blinked blearily at me. Heath hadn't been a beer and porn induced dream. He reached across me and drew the phone closer.

"Spankings are taken care of," he drawled. "Sorry Adam, but Daddy Jay's gonna be kinda busy this week. We had a long night and I wanna get some more shut-eye before the next few rounds of birthday sex, nawmean."

I gaped at him as Adam's voice screeched from the phone, demanding to know if I had Heath Slater in my bed. Heath pressed the button that cut him off. "Y'all should turn off the ringer," he yawned, then cuddled back up to me. I took his suggestion, knowing I'd be in deep shit later, and shook my head.

"You're gonna be a handful, aren't you?" I asked, nuzzling into his hair.

"Yeah," he murmured. "But I'm your handful. As long as you can stand me."

I thought I'd be able to stand him a long, long time.


End file.
